His Whole Universe
by Brown Eyes Parker
Summary: A story about Jane's past whole universe, his present whole universe, and his future whole universe. A story in four installments for the Jello Forever "My Whole Universe" challenge.
1. Charlotte Jane, Moving On

**His Whole Universe**

**A Mentalist Story**

**By Brown Eyes Parker**

**Chapter Summary:**

**She wants him to move on and be happy. To not mourn forever, she and her mother aren't coming back. But there's that five-hundred pound elephant in the room, his thirst for revenge. A story from Charlotte Anne Jane's POV. Slightly inspired by "See the Sun" by Dido.**

**Author's Note:**

**This is a new first for me, I've never written anything from Jane's daughter, or his wife's point of view. So, bear with me. . . and I'm sorry if it's horrible. **

**Disclaimer:**

**I don't own anything. I've asked and asked. . . oh well, maybe if I'm a good girl, this Christmas I'll own more then Mentalist DVDs, and downloads of the music that I use in this story.**

**.**

**Part 1 – Moving On, Charlotte Anne Jane: **

_**You can wear anything as long it's not black**_

**_Please don't mourn forever, she's not coming back_**

**See the Sun, Dido_**

I used to be part of his whole universe. But then, I died. Sorry if my bluntness bothers you, but that's how it was for me. One day, my friends and I were eating Creamsicles from the ice cream truck at the park. And the next day, I wasn't there anymore. But that's just because a really bad man killed me and my mother.

Dying wasn't scary. . . except only for a second. It hurt, and then everything was gone. . . a beautiful, painless, white oblivitation. The scariest thing was watching my father spiral into a dark place, and literally have to claw his way out with the help of somebody named Shophie Miller.

The scariest part now is that he's replaced my mother and me. . . his whole universe is catching Red John and seeking revenge on him. He could have replaced us with so many things. . . with so many people, and he chose Red John. He chose revenge. I wouldn't mind so much if he replaced me with somebody else. A new daughter, or a new son. I wouldn't mind so much if he replaced my mother with somebody else. It would be better than his unhealthy obsession with a serial killer.

(If my parents had divorced, it would only be natural to move on eventually. Shouldn't it be the same way with death? Why should the living have to cling to memories? Why can't it be easy for them to move on?)

He could move on with Agent Lisbon, the woman who came into his life after we died. . . and after he was released from the hospital. She can put up with him. She's brave enough to plunge into his dark place, take his hand and lead him out into the sunlight. Every single time he pushes her away, she just takes it in stride and doesn't leave him alone. She still tries to get close to him, not caring about the consequences. And she still likes him, even after seeing his worst side.

But moving on isn't my dad's strongest suit. He still wears his wedding ring, and sometimes he'll go home and sleep underneath that awful signature. He blames himself for what happened that night we died. And then there's that five-hundred pound elephant in the room. Revenge. He's so hell-bent on it , that sometimes it cancels out everything and everybody around him.

Even somebody like Teresa Lisbon.

Still, regardless of everything that's happening in his life, I still have hope. Hope that one day, my dad will realize who he has in front of him. . . next to him every single day. I Hope that one day, he'll change his mind about revenge. I Hope that one day, he'll finally be ready to move on. . . and when that day comes, he'll move on with Agent Lisbon.

Please Daddy. . . move on. I'm happy where I am, and that's all I want for you. I want you to be happy. You can't mourn forever, we're not coming back.

**Author's Note II:**

**I know this first story is a little weak. But in all honesty, I had no idea where I was going with this story exactly. All I knew is I wanted to write it from Charlotte's POV, with her worried over the fact that Red John and revenge was his whole universe, when they shouldn't be. It was WICKED hard to translate her story from my dizzy thoughts to an actual, readable story.**

**I'm posting this first chapter with my eyes shut tightly. So, if you liked it, please tell me in a review. Thanks.**

**Love,**

**Holly_**


	2. Angela Jane, Past Tense

**His Whole Universe**

**A Mentalist Story  
>By Brown Eyes Parker<strong>

**Chapter Summary:**

**She's becoming past-tense, and it's not something she's used to. From Angela Jane's point of view. Inspired by "Old Friends/Book Ends" by Simon & Garfunkle, and "the Way We Were" by Barbara Streisand. **

**Disclaimer:**

**I don't own anything. Not the songs I used, or the characters in the Mentalist. I do own a copy of Simon & Garfunkle's greatest hits, a copy of the Essential Barbara Streisand, and a couple of half-baked ideas. **

**.**

_** Time it was, and what a time it was. . . it was**_

_**a time of innocence**_

_**A time of confidences**_

_**Long ago it must be**_

_**I have a photograph**_

_**Preserve your memories, there all that's left**_

**Book Ends, Simon & Garfunkle_**

_**Memories like the corners of my mind**_

_**Misty water color memories of the way we were**_

_**Scattered pictures of the smiles we left behind**_

_**Smiles we gave to one another for the way we were**_

**The Way We Were, Barbara Streisand_**

**Angela Jane - Past Tense:**

I used to be part the center of his whole universe. From the day we first met – all the way up to the night that I died – it was just the two of us. We grew up in the carnival together. He was my first kiss. . . he was my first everything. And then, one day we decided to leave carnival life together. So, we threw all of our worldly possessions into one bag, stole a Chevy truck, and left in the dead of night with _America_ by Simon & Garfunkle playing on a tape. We got married by a Justice of Peace, and began a new life together in Sacramento, California.

With the exception of Charlotte Ann, he didn't care about anybody else in the world. Just me.

Then I died, and he met Teresa Lisbon. And although what was obvious to me wasn't obvious to either of them. . . I could tell that she was quickly becoming the center of his whole universe.

A couple of weeks ago, one of their co-workers – Grace Van Pelt – had broken off her engagement with her fiancé Craig O 'Laughlin. On the night of what would have been her wedding, she threw a party for her close friends, and family. That's when I really knew Agent Lisbon was becoming the center of my husband's whole universe.

He was attentive to her every need. Refilling her glass when it was half-empty, standing by her side. . . his arm loosely looped through her's. The way he looked at her in her watery grey dress, sleeveless, and made of silk. . . with red lipstick and stilettos to complete the look. And then there was the way he danced with her that night. . . he held onto her like he couldn't bear to let her go. And she held onto him in the same way.

It was just like the night they danced to _More than Words_. That night, you could have cut the electricity between them with a knife. I had almost expected him to put his hand under her jacket, I had almost expected her to lift her head from his cheek, and press her lips to his. . . in a kiss that I'm sure would have rocked the hotel ballroom. The way they danced that night wasn't the way you danced with a co-worker, or a friend (not even a close friend), it wasn't the way you danced with your sister. I had a brother, we _never_ danced that way. The way they danced at Agent Van Pelt's party – to _You Made Me So Very Happy – _wasn't the way you danced with somebody you considered a friend, or a sibling, or a co-worker.

Seeing them dance those two times made me think of the first time we danced. We were sixteen-years-old, and he was just getting out of the stage where he thought all girls were gross. I was starting to blossom into a young woman. . . it was a Friday night, and we had set up a place so the carnival-goers could dance. My brother and some other of the boys had put together a cover band. Patrick was taking tickets when I showed up with my mother. I was wearing a purple sundress that accentuated my curves, and my hair was out of its usual braids. He dropped the tickets in the ground and was by my side in an instant. He asked me to dance then, his eyes never leaving mine.

As he led me to the dance floor, the band started to play _Wouldn't It Be Nice? _by the Beach Boys. It's exactly how I felt that night, and I couldn't imagine myself spending the rest of my life with anybody but him. And why shouldn't I have felt that way? He had been my best friend since we were babies.

**.**

I know it would be selfish to want Patrick to cling to a memory for the rest of his life. But I loved him. . . I loved him _so _much. And it's hard to see him moving on. . . living his life when I don't get do live my life anymore.

If Patrick gets together with Agent Lisbon, she will become the center of his heart. And I will become a resident of a very small corner of it. I will become somebody they mention only on occasion, and then she'll take him in her arms and hug it out. Comfort him in ways that I'll never be able to comfort him with again.

She's already doing it, she's already replacing me. She has the magic touch. . . she knows the right words to say. She can make him smile or laugh with just a look. She knows exactly how to pull him out of deep, dark depression. . . or at least make him forget about it for a few minutes.

I guess I'm just past-tense, and I have to get used to it.


	3. Teresa Lisbon, Over Her Head

**His Whole World**

**A Mentalist Story**

**By Brown Eyes Parker**

**Chapter Summary:**

**Disclaimer:**

**Again, I do not own anything. If I did, Jane and Lisbon would already be together. . . or on the verge of getting together at least. And there would be a lot of Jane and Lisbon scenes. Oh! And I own "I Can't Make You Love Me" cover**

**Author's Note:**

**Originally this story was inspired by "Over My Head (the Cable Car Song)", and then "Collide" by Howie Day. But I was listening to "I Can't Make You Love Me", and I was inspired. . . I was completely inspired. I got half of what I wanted to say written in five minutes. Then I added "Just My Imagination (Running Away With Me)" to the mix, and it got even better.**

**.**

_**I'll close my eyes**_

_**Then I won't see the love you don't feel when you're holding me**_

_**Morning will come and I'll do what's right**_

_**Just give me 'til then to give up this fight**_

_**And I will give up this fight**_

'_**Cause I can't make you love me if you don't**_

_**You can't make your heart feel something it won't**_

_**Here in the dark in these final hours**_

_**I will lay down my heart, and I feel the power**_

_**But you won't**_

_**No you won't**_

**I Can't Make You Love Me, Bonnie Raitt_**

_**Every night on my knees I pray**_

_**Dear Lord, hear my plea don't let another take his love from me**_

_**Or I will surely die**_

_**It's heavenly when your arms enfold me**_

_**I hear a tender rhapsody**_

_**But in reality, he doesn't even know me**_

_**It was just my imagination running away with me**_

_**Just my imagination, running away with me. . . **_

***Just My Imagination, Gwyneth Paltrow with Baby Face_**

I'm not an idiot. . . I know that Red John is the center of his whole universe. It's been that way since the day that we met, and I'm pretty sure that it will always be that way. I am just a means to an end. A chess piece in his game with Red John. I am a queen in his game, yes. But I'm a game-piece all the same.

I know that his dead wife and daughter are there too. They're a little blurry because of Red John, but they're there just the same. The three of them is all that he sees.

I knew this when I signed up to work with him. That's why I never let our relationship go beyond the boundaries of friendship and a little harmless flirting. That's why, as much as I wanted to fall for him, I built up a wall that I thought he couldn't scale.

That's why his attentiveness the night of Van Pelt's anti-wedding didn't mean anything to me. Not really anyways.

That's why when I woke up in his arms the morning after Van Pelt's anti-wedding party, I didn't read too much into it. There had been a huge thunderstorm out at the lodge she had rented for the party. It stranded all of the guests for the night. . . Jane being Jane snuck away when the party got to be too much for him. Me being me went to look for him after a while.

I found him in a room made almost completely out of glass windows. He was sitting with his back against a wall, staring out at the storm raging on outside. He was so lost in thought that I didn't think he would notice me take my shoes off and slide down next to him. But he's the man that notices everything and everybody. So, of course he noticed me. He didn't say anything though, he just gave me a welcoming smile and then we spent the rest of the evening in silence. The storm eventually lulling us off to sleep.

I would be lying if I said that I didn't enjoy waking up in his arms. I would be lying to say my heart didn't skip a beat when I discovered his fingers tangled through mine, and an arm wrapped around my waist. I would be lying to say that it didn't warm my heart and soul to find Jane sleeping peacefully for what was probably the first time in years. I would be lying to say that I wouldn't have wanted to spend the rest of my life out there with him. . . in our own private world where reality couldn't touch us. Ever.

But the incredible high I woke up on didn't last very long. Whatever I felt in those few moments were replaced with thoughts of Red John. They were replaced with feelings that I would never be what he needed. I would never be what he wanted. I would never be Angela. And so, I came crashing down. I untangled our fingers and gently removed his arm from my waist, then I hightailed it out of the study before he woke up and realized what had happened. Before he realized that everything in our world could change because of one stupid mistake. Because I thought that I had to rescue him from something as mundane as a party that lasted longer than anybody had really wanted, or expected.

Luckily when he found me and we got into his car for the long drive back to Sacramento, he didn't say anything to me about what had happened the night before. Which I was thankful for. It would have brought up a lot of things that I didn't want brought up. It would have probably made me face feelings that I didn't want to face. It would have made me face a fact that I had memorized a long time ago . . who the center of his universe _really _was. It wasn't me. . . it would _never_ be me.

But still. . . as long as I breathe, as long as I know him. . . I think I'll hold out hope against hope that Patrick Jane will choose me over Red John one day. That one day I will be on the pedestal that he holds Red John on. I guess I'm in a little bit over my head. And maybe I'm a bigger idiot than I thought, because I let him scale the wall.

**End Part Three**

**.**

**Author's Note 2:**

**I know**** that Lisbon was a little bit OOC in this story. But I took creative liberties for the story. Hope the changes didn't mess anybody up too badly. And I hope you enjoyed this chapter of the story. I think it was one of my favorite parts to write, even if I did cry a little bit. If you liked it, please review. **

***I would like to dedicate this story to somebody very special to me: "**_**To have a boy like him is truly a dream come true/out of all the girlies in the world/he belongs to you/but it was just my imagination running away with me/it was just my imagination running away with me**_**".**

**Until next time I remain faithfully your's,**

**Holly, April 14, 2011_**


	4. Chapter 4, And Then She Found Me

His Whole World

**A Mentalist Story**

**By Brown Eyes Parker**

**Chapter Summary:**

**Jane's whole universe was taken away from him. So he focused on making a new universe. . . until she found him. Partially inspired by "Goodbye May Seem Forever" from Disney's _Fox & the Hound_, "Teenage Dream" by Katy Perry, and "Halo" by Beyonce.**

**Disclaimer:**

I own. . . a bunch of CDs I mixed, a bakers dozen of half-baked story ideas, and more shoes than I know what do with. I do not own Jane and Lisbon, or the Mentalist.

Author's Note I:

This story was originally going to be based on a Faith Hill song called "You Stay With Me". THEN I found a great music website called 8tracks and I was inspired by a bunch of great songs, and some old songs too. I am also renaming this story, it was originally called "You Stay With Me", but it's new name is, "And Then. . . She Found Me"

.

_From our sadness_

_Our happiness grew and then I found out, I needed you too. . ._

Goodbye May Seem Forever, Fox & the Hound_

_Remember those walls I built?_

_Well baby they tumbling down_

_And they didn't even put up a fight_

_They didn't even make a sound_

_I found a way to let you in_

_But I never really had a doubt_

_Standing in the light of your halo, I've got my angel now_

_It's like I've been awakened_

_Every rule I had you breaking_

_It's the risk that I'm taking_

_I ain't ever gonna shut you out_

Halo, Beyonce_

_Before you met me  
>I was a wreck<em>

_But things were kind of heavy_

_You brought me to life_

_Now every February, you'll be my Valentine_

_Valentine. . . _

Teenage Dream, Katy Perry_

IV. Patrick Jane – And Then. . . She Found Me

Angela Ruskin Jane. My wife, My lover, my best friend. . . she was my whole universe. But that was before I spoke out against Red John on television, before I got her killed. Before I came undone, and then came together again. She was the woman I came home to every single night. The woman that I kissed when I came into the door at night, the woman that I could hold on rainy nights. The woman that I would take dancing, and spontaneous trips to exotic destinations. She was the woman I saved.

She was the woman I decked out in jewelry for no reason at all. Somebody who saw the worst parts of me and still loved me. Somebody for me to protect. . . even though in the end I didn't do a very good job at protecting her. My stupidity and pride killed her. I didn't do my job, so I lost my whole universe.

Charlotte Anne Jane. My daughter, the light of my life. . . she was my whole universe. But that was before I spoke out against Red John on television, before I got her killed. Before I tried to take my own life. . . before I found life again. Before I found a reason not to live, and then a reason to live. She was the girl I would come home to at night. The girl that I slipped extra scoops of ice cream to when her mother wasn't looking. The girl I would put on my shoes and dance her around the den to Frank Sinatra. Somebody I would read _Goodnight Moon _to before bed until we both knew every word by heart. Somebody I watched _the Rescuers _and _Fox and the Hound _with. A daughter who looked at me like I was the only man in the world. A daughter who trusted me to protect her. . . to always make sure that she was safe. Because I was stupid and prideful, I killed her. I didn't do my job, so I lost my whole universe.

.

He used to be my whole universe. After what he did to my wife and child, my only desire was to find him, to see him suffer in the same way. . . to get revenge on him. I became obsessed, nothing else mattered. . . nobody else mattered. Not where Red John was concerned. He took my entire universe away, he took my whole life away. . . he deserved to know the pain that I knew.

And then. . . _she _found me. The roles were reversed this time, she saved me. I didn't save her. When I was at my lowest, when I was at my most desperate she came into my life and pulled me out of the darkness, out of the deep depression that had taken over me. She gave me a job, a reason to live again, she gave me peace. She gave me a means to an end.

And when I least excepted it, she gave me love for a second time. Then she became my whole universe. And like a teenage boy with a crush on the prettiest girl in high school, she made me want to live again. To call Delilah, and dedicate special songs to her, to sing love songs, and spout off sonnets. She made me want to ask her to dance, and then do it again. She made me want to capture her attention, and give it all to me. Like a teenage boy in high school when she agreed to do anything with me outside of work, I probably grinned like I just had won the lottery.

On a rainy day in August, I finally realized all of this after seven years of knowing her.

After weeks of innocent people being killed, after weeks of searching and dead ends, we found Red John at last. When I saw his face, I waited to do what I thought would come naturally. . . to attack him, to kill him. . . to make him suffer the way that he had made countless amounts of others suffer. To make him suffer the way he had made my wife and child suffer. . . the way he had made me suffer. I waited to do what I had planned to do all along.

And then – for a millisecond – my eyes flicked to her. It was the hugest mistake of my life. It was the best choice I ever made. When I looked at her all the hatred bubbling up in my heart came to a complete halt. . . she was looking at me with pleading eyes. Something inside me told me that life without her would be worse than a lifetime of knowledge that Red John got treated in the most humane ways possible.

I chose life. I chose her. (I should have realized the signs long before. . . I felt the need to protect her, push her away, keep certain facts that I knew about Red John away from her. I knew that everybody I got close to would eventually get killed. . . and I couldn't bear to lose her.)

She arrested Red John, and a month later he got his day in court. But the judge and jury weren't lenient by any means. He got sentenced to death. . . lethal injection. I wasn't happy with the sentencing, and I left the courtroom before the judge finished what he was saying.

And then. . . _she_ found me. She followed me out of the courthouse and to the park across the street. She sat down beside me on the park bench, and took my hand. She laced her fingers through mine and held on tightly. She leaned her head on my shoulder, nestling into the crook of my chin. It started to rain, and still we didn't move. Neither of us said anything. . . and for the first time, I couldn't read her thoughts. But my own were glaringly obvious.

I needed her.

But I couldn't form the words, I couldn't find the right ones to say. I couldn't find the courage to put my arms around her, and kiss her. Kiss her in a way that would cause both our heads to spin. Kiss her in a way that would – as my wife used to say – rock the whole entire park.

With my wife everything had been so easy. I had known her all my life. For me, there had been nobody else.

And I guess, it should have been the same way with Lisbon. Like my wife, she knew me. . . she had seen the worst side of me and had still liked me. She had still. . . put all her hope in me, and the way things would turn out in the end.

So, throwing caution to the wind, I kissed her that rainy afternoon in the park. Because when you find your whole universe, that's what you do. You don't waste time, and I had already wasted enough time already.

(And the kiss did rock the entire park.)

I married her. Because when you find your whole universe, that's what you do. You marry them, and spend the rest of your life showing them just how much they mean to you.

I was dead, a scarred, empty shell of a man. Haunted by ghosts and by demons, and what could have beens. . . what should have beens. I was somebody with a past. And then. . . she found me. . . and I was never the same person again.

**_The End_**

**Author's Note II:**

**Well, here we are at the end of another story. I've tweaked it and tweaked it, then I retweaked what I tweaked. I thought I would hate it by now, but I actually still love it. Maybe even more than when I was first putting Jane's story together. I know it's not perfect, but do any of us ever really obtain perfection in this lifetime? I only wish the first three stories in this series had reached what this has reached in the past three weeks I've had to work on it.**

**Anyways, thanks to everyone who took the time to review this story. I really appreciate whatever reviews I get. I am truly happy when I know somebody really likes my stories, I know that I haven't written in vain. You guys are what keep me writing, even when my inspiration is running low. And it's been running low lately. . . I'm still smarting a little bit from a beating I took a while ago.**

**Don't worry though, I still have a million ideas for stories. It's just translating them onto paper. . . or my computer.**

**Sorry for rambling.**

**Until next time I remain faithfully your's,**

**Holly, May 9, 2011_**


End file.
